Truly A Cinderella Man
by Meredith A. Jones
Summary: [CINDERELLA MAN] Jimmy sprains his ankle in the ring, but still has another fight. He goes to train, and meets a fifteen year old bent on becoming a boxer. He's also bent on the prospect of James training him. CHAPTER 2 NOW POSTED!
1. Chapter 1

Truly A Cinderella Man  
Chapter 1

A/N: I've got a few ideas for this. Maybe I'll figure out an actual storyline. Hopefully it's short, because I have many other things to write for the summer, but I discovered that this chapter was extremely fun to write, so I wrote it! Enjoy! Send Reviews! Keep reading!

OoOoO

"Come on, Jimmy, Come on! Let's go - left - right - right - come on! James, you sonofabitch! KNOCK HIM OUT! NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? COME ON! POUND HIS FACE IN! What - WHAT WAS THAT? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

James wasn't paying attention to Joe. He was watching carefully; concentrating; losing himself in the match. His blood pulsed though his veins like jets of water, though feeling like air. His body was loose and weightless, his head was full of pressure, and his forehead and lips were smothered with blood. He couldn't break his concentration long enough to think about licking it away. He had to keep his feet going; had to keep his breathing constant; had to dodge the unsuccessful half-hearted swipes at him from his opponent; had to stick Red Clampton with every jab, every punch he could offer. Couldn't stop moving; had to keep moving. But he wasn't doing very well. He could tell that he was letting down many members of the audience. _Clang!_

Joe leaped under the ropes into the ring, and sprinted over to James, throwing him down onto the stool in the corner. "Come on, Jimmy," he said loudly, over the crowd's deafening cheers, "what are you doing out there? You're slipping away from me, Jim, you're slipping away." Joe made his hands into tight fists, and making his elbows point toward the ground, dragged his fists down his chest, indicating James's apparent slipping action. Jimmy had his mouth too full of water to retaliate, and he had to keep his head in the game anyway. He spit it all out into the bucket at his feet and wiped his mouth with his sweaty arm.

"Are you okay? You're alright? You know, if you lose, Jim - "

"I'm fine, I'm alright, I know."

"You know? Good, I'm glad you know! SHOW THEM YOU KNOW, JIM! SHOW THEM YOU KNOW!" Joe shouted the last bit over the bell and the crowd's new vigor. James jumped up, nearly knocking over the stool, and jogged back into the middle of the ring.

"SHOW THEM YOU KNOW, JIM! GO AND GET 'EM! Oh, it was a mistake for him to invite Mae tonight." James looked at Joe out of the corner of his eye, sensing that he was worried about something, but he couldn't afford to think about this. Whatever it was, Joe could take care of it by himself. James's manager saw that he'd noticed the worry, and he brightened up again so as not to ruin his boxer's self esteem. "GO, JIMMY! KNOCK 'EM DEAD!" After the two trainers exited the ring, James and Red were back at it again. Red had only been cleaned up a little. The men with the sponges had been too distracted by Clampton's trainer, and their futile attempts at getting his entire face cleaned up made no amends for Braddock's brutal beating. Blood streamed down the red-head's face and he looked near to losing his mind, his eyes still having that menacing way about them that James had seen only once, and that was within the eyes of Maxy Baer. Clampton's look was only half as intimidating as Baer's, but, still: it was always the look on the fighter's face that showed if he was fighting to win, or if he was fighting for blood.

"Braddock takes a punch from Clampton, but he returns the punch lightning-fast! Clampton is nearly down! It looks like he'll only take a few more hits from Braddock before he sees the bottom of the ring!" The announcer shouted into the microphone, reporting every move each fighter made. Joe was just as loud as he was without the mic, yelling and screaming at ringside.

"SLUG 'IM, JIMMY! COME ON! 3 MORE ROUNDS! YOU'LL TAKE 'IM BEFORE THAT!"

Mae, in the second row of the bleachers, couldn't watch. She knew Jimmy wasn't going to get hurt too badly, but she still felt absolutely terrible, wishing she hadn't agreed to come. She had left the kids with her sister again, and felt that she owed something to them for repeating the act so many times, and this time, for a horrible reason. When she lifted her head for that spit second to see her Jimmy take a hit in the jaw, her eyes filled with tears, thinking of them without a father.

"Braddock is still holding this game in his hands! You can see the determination in the Cinderella Man's eyes! Clampton isn't giving up, though - oh, no. He should be able to win something before the night's over!"

James kept his stance, and listened to the rhythm of his pulse, counting it in his head. He matched it with his footwork and breathing. He had to pause to get his breath back after taking a punch in the stomach.

"He is not doin' so hot tonight," Joe commented to himself silently. "Where are you, Braddock?"

James blinked to clear his vision and placed a sharp, strong jab on his opponent's shoulder, making Clampton's next hit miss completely. When he pulled his arm back, James smacked the side of his head hard with his glove. Joe jumped up and down again, suddenly, pounding on the floor of the ring.

"THAT'S IT, JIM! COME ON! THERE YOU GO!" He let out a long whoop after Jimmy punched Red's nose, and the bell sounded again. Round 14.

"Whoo, baby! I don't know what's been wrong with you for the rest of this game, but you sure were goin' great in those last ten seconds." James laughed, adjusting his mouth guard, while a man squeezed a yellow sponge on his head. "What's up with you, huh? You're a little on the edge." James stood up suddenly, sopping wet, and waved his glove at the crowd, who cheered psychotically. Mae waved back, screaming something that was swallowed up by the crowd. Joe put a hand on James's shoulder and shoved him back down. "Whoa, hey! What are you doing? I'm talkin' to you. Sit down. Save your energy. We know the audience goes crazy for you even if you're having a bad streak. Come on, we don't have much time left for this." He paused, looking at his friend. "What are you laughing at?"

"I don't know. I'm just having a good time tonight, that's all. I feel good!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah? Well, stop "just having a good time" and win! Keep your concentration, whatever happens. Now, listen to me, Braddock, go for his head more; you're not getting enough punches into his head, and that's not like you, I don't like that. The eleventh round, you were gold! Pure gold! But you're not getting enough punches to his head now. Remember to get his head, Jimmy! Now, wait a minute, wait a minute, sit down. I'm not finished. I've seen Clampton fight before, and he's completely merciless. And you have him, Jimmy, you _have _him, I can feel it! But you're not being tough enough - you gotta get in there and pound him until he can't move an inch! You hear me?"

"I hear ya."

"An _inch, _Jimmy. The announcer, he keeps saying "he has it! Braddock has the game in his hands!" Now, you may have it in your hands, but as long as you have it, for the love of God, you have to HOLD it! SQUEEEZE it! And whatever you do, _don't let go! _" _Clang! _"Let's go, Jimmy!"

Once, when Clampton lost his concentration, and his eyes wandered into the stands, James whacked him hard on the head, pulled back, and repeated the punch. Once Red had felt this, he promptly kicked James's legs out from under him, sending him flying to the ground. Joe went insane. "HEY!" he screamed, crawling into the ring. People booed and shouted out their protests.

"BAD FORM!" someone yelled. The referee came over and started counting down Jimmy.

"Come on, Jim - you gotta get up. You alright? Anything broken? Oh, I'm going to kill that sonofabitch. Unless, you do it for me. Come on, get up."

"My ankle - "

"What, your ankle hurts?"

"I think it's sprained - "

"Well, you're going to have to fight him on a bad ankle, then - "

"What, Joe, you think I'd quit?" James grunted. He forced himself to his feet, and the ref ushered Joe back under the ropes. Everything hurt when Jimmy stood, but he smiled when the audience began to scream and cheer again.

"The crowd goes wild over Braddock! Joe Gould has just reported that Clampton may have sprained Braddock's left ankle. But, nevertheless, our hero has once again made that fast recovery and is now back on his feet in the middle of the ring!"

"Come on, baby, come on," Joe said to himself, throwing punches into the air in front of him. "STAY OFF YOUR LEFT FOOT, JIMMY! KEEP YOUR RIGHT FORWARD!" Red was smirking; he had his hands up to his chest, and was watching James's every step. Like a panther, he reached out and aimed for James's temple, but he blocked it, and sent one sailing into Clampton's face. The blow nearly knocked him off of his feet, and it took him a few seconds to recover and remember where he was.

"GO FOR HIM, JIM!" Joe yelled, "DON'T HOLD BACK!"And he did go for him. While Clampton was at a weak point, James got him up against the ropes and gave him a full fledged beating; a prize worthy fight. Soon Clampton's nose, lips, and cheeks were bleeding profusely, and finally, just before the bell, he fell to the ground. The ref walked over to the two, and Jimmy, putting all of his weight on his right foot, watched as he counted up to ten.

OoOoO

Mae burst into the locker room while James and Joe were engaged in a conversation about the fight. She jumped into her husband's arms, grabbed his face, and began to kiss him. Joe rolled his eyes and bit his tongue angrily. He had been doing that lately to keep himself from saying anything he knew he'd get in trouble for. It had worked most of the time.

"Call me when you want me to untape your hands," he said instead, leaving the room. James waved a hand and pulled away.

"You won, Jimmy!"

"I won, but my ankle - "

"Oh, your ankle - how's your ankle?"

"It'll be fine." He brightened immediately, desperate for his wife not to worry about him. "I won!" Mae smiled and threw her arms around him again. James lifted his head long enough to smile at Joe, who was poking his head into the locker room and shaking his head.

OoOoO

"When will you be home, Jimmy?"

"Around eleven. Don't wait up."

"Alright." James planted a kiss on Mae's cheek, and walked quickly over to an excited Joe, who was standing outside of his car. Once they got in and began driving, Joe did a double take at his friend. A smile spread across his face.

"What?"

"Nothin'," Joe said. "How's your ankle?"

"It's fine, it's fine, it's fine." James thought he'd said this about fifty times in one night, and that if he said it three more times in a row, he'd have three less to say later. "It doesn't hurt one bit."

"Good, 'cause you've got that fight against Barty Wilson on Thursday." James scratched his head and looked out the window.

"Yeah..."

The restaurant was dark and cold. It was very much different from Madison Square Garden, which was scorching hot inside. The pair found a table near the window, so that they could look out at the almost complete darkness, and immediately, the waiter came with a pitcher of water. Joe still had that excited smile on his face. Once the waiter left, the silence was broken.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy." James smiled.

"Kinda screwy tonight."

"I won," Jim said for the millionth time.

"Yeah, you won, but that's not the point. Yeah, you fought well...er...most of the time. But it was kinda screwy. What happened?"

"I don't know," James said, watching a man walk down the street carrying a potato sack. No doubt everything he owned was inside it. "I got excited." He grinned, and looked back at his friend. "So did you."

"Yeah, well, I was more worried about you than anything. You got hit pretty hard a few times, and some times I just wasn't sure what you were going to do next. Once, you tried to get into his arms, and you couldn't, so you sort of skipped around him a few times and I started to wonder what exactly you had been doing before you came to the fight." James chuckled. "What about Mae?"

"What _about _Mae, Joey?"

"Well, she was pretty worried about you too."

"Yeah." James paused. "Maybe that was it. Mae."

"Mae ruined your game?"

"Well, yea - actually, no. You know what, I'm not sure. Maybe." Joe raised an eyebrow and lifted his glass of water to his lips. He tried to be patient, as he knew his fighter was exhausted.

"Make up your mind, Bulldog."

Jim let out a breath and began again. "She just got me excited, ya know? I mean, she's never come to a fight before - "

"She did once, didn't she?"

"She did once, and she left before it ended, in tears, and I lost that night if you remember correctly. I just - I don't know." James slumped in his seat, and began to play with the napkin on the table in front of him.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"What - "Nothin'"?"

"I'm glad she came. I'm just really glad she came. That's all. But it was distracting. I mean, what was she going to see up in the ring, huh? Me getting my face flattened? I was too worried. I didn't want her to see that."

"Wouldn't you agree that's kinda what happened, though?"

"Joe, you're not making this easy."

"Sorry, it's just - you won, but in a way, you lost." James stared across the table at his manager.

"I screwed up, I'm sorry."

"What, you screwed up? We got the dough, didn't we? A little Do-Re-Mi for the Fa-Sol-La-Ti-Do? You were a little screwy, but you didn't screw up." The waiter came, then, and asked them what they wanted to drink.

"Bring over a bottle of whatever's strongest." He glanced at Jim. "On me." James sighed. He wasn't comfortable with his partner paying for him all the time. One day, he'd pay him back.

"You don't have to keep paying, Joey," James said once the waiter left.

"Yeah, but I like to. What do you have to complain about?"

"I just want to pay sometime, that's all!"

"Jim, we sound like an old married couple. Keep your voice down."

"Old married couple - we just got back from a fight."

"Which you lost."

"What! I won!"

"And you sprained your ankle!" he nearly yelled it.

"I won, Joey!" James spat back.

"Alright!"

"I won!"

"Alright! Jesus Christ, don't get your balls in a knot!" Somehow, this made Jim smile."Come on, drink. You had a long night - drink."

"I'm fine. Hey, Joey?" Joe looked up. "The Wilson fight next Thursday - well, my ankle..."

"Cancel it?" Joe looked thoroughly confused. "I don't think so. James J. Braddock does not cancel a fight. And neither does Joe Gould for that matter," he added haughtily, but then let go of the attitude. "Ah, you're just tired," he said, waving the matter away as it if it were merely a pestering fly. "You'll be more excited about it when the time comes." He looked up at James, who was giving him a tired look. "God damnit, Jimmy." Joe bit his tongue.

A/N: I know it's not much yet, and there's not much of a storyline yet, but be patient. I hope you liked it. Review! I wanna know how I'm doing!


	2. Chapter 2

Truly A Cinderella Man  
Chapter 2

A/N: This is a fun chapter, I think. It's where the plot comes. I was sitting in the hairdresser's with my notebook the other day and I got this idea, and I was so glad I actually thought of a plot, so here's where it starts!

You guys, we need a Cinderella Man category. Posting in Misc. Movies is a bummer. Hah.

OoOoO

James stumbled through the door after midnight, knocking over one of the kitchen chairs as he did. He grabbed onto the table for support and put a hand to his forehead. He looked at his kids, who were, luckily, still fast asleep in their beds.

"Jimmy?" James jumped, and looked up at Mae, who had been standing near the sink. "Are you alright, baby?" her face hardened. "Did Joe get you drunk?"

"A little, I think." He didn't really remember.

"Oh, Jimmy. Right after a fight, too. I can't believe that man sometimes. Now, you get to bed, and I don't want to hear a word about it."

"Not a word," he repeated groggily.

"No, not a word." She wrung her hands for a while, looking at the floor, then looked up when James didn't go anywhere. "Jimmy?" James began to grin strangely. Mae blinked. He swayed over to her, picked her up around the waist with one arm, and carried her into their bedroom.

OoOoO

The sun broke through the single musty window of James and Mae's bedroom, flooding James's face with light. He grimaced and opened an eye. It had been a long time since he'd woken up to sunlight, as he was used to waking at five in the morning. He sat up and listened to the sizzling noise that the sausage was making on the stove, remembering where he was. He only remembered the fight last night and talking with Joe at the restaurant. They'd bought a bottle of...something. He didn't remember quite what it was...

James stumbled over to his closet and pulled on a pair of pants to go under his white undershirt, pulled his suspenders up, and forgetting his socks and his false tooth. He hobbled barefoot into the kitchen, barely able to open his eyes. Jay, Howard, and Rosemarie were already outside playing. Mae was at the sink washing a bowl.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

Mae looked up from her dish, to her husband, and shrugged. "Well, you usually wake yourself up..."

"Mae."

"I wanted you to get some sleep, Jimmy. You were out late last night, and you came home drunk because of that - that - that Joe Gould."

"I needed to get to the docks this morning!"

"I know...I made you a sausage." James looked at the scrawny piece of meat in the pan and his heart dropped. She'd saved him food from breakfast. It didn't look like much, sitting in that pan, cracking and sizzling away, but during this time, it was very significant. "Well, I made it earlier - and it got cold - so...I heated it up." her voice sounded teary and when she looked up from the pan, her face was sort of twisted into the face a guilty woman would have. James put his tongue where his tooth should be and looked at the floor.

"Thank you." He sat down at the table as his wife brought over a plate and the pan, and coaxed the curly sausage out of it. Then, she went back to the sink, put both dishes into it, wiped her eye with the palm of her hand, and sat down next to her husband as he began to slowly eat. He didn't want to show Mae how hungry he was, and acted as if that little sausage in front of him was just enough to fill his appetite. There was a long silence, and somebody screamed outside, somehow making Mae remember something.

"I called doctor Agleston this morning."

"What for?"

"Well, your ankle. We um...we'll have to go in on Saturday."

"And then I've got another fight on Thursday."

"Oh, Jimmy, can't you get 'em to cancel it? How are you going to fight on a bad ankle? Jimmy, how?"

"Mae, listen. I'll go the doctor's and I'll go to the fight. I ain't cancelin' the fight. There's no way I'm cancelin' the fight."

"But, Jimmy, you'll lose! You'll get hurt again where you can barely get up, and then you'll lose! Listen to me!"

"Mommy!" Both Mae and James's heads snapped in the direction of the front door, where Rosemarie had just run through, carrying what looked like a tiny white ball of fur.

"What is that, sweetie?" Mae said.

"I found him back in the alleyway!" she hurried over to her parents and showed them. It was a white female kitten. It only looked a few weeks old. "Can we keep him, please?" James looked at the kitten, and smiled. It looked so scared and helpless, yet determined and courageous.

"Well, sweetie, I don't think the original owners could afford the cat anymore, and that's why they left him - "

"We'll keep him, Rosie."

"_Jim," _Mae whispered. He only looked at her and smiled again.

"What are you going to name him, Rosie?"

"Gee, I don't know. Do you want to name him, daddy?" James stared at the kitten, and she stared back.

"I've got an idea." Mae and Rosie looked at James, and he nodded. "Hope," he said.

OoOoO

"Hey, Joe."

"Hey, champ, how ya doin'?" Joe slapped James on the back and led him across the concrete floor. Two fighters were already deep in a spar, both of their managers shouting and bouncing around the edges of the ring. Besides them and a few people hanging around by the punching bags and the weights, the place was empty. Joe gave the two crazy managers over at ring 6 a look as if he'd never seen anything like it before in his life and wouldn't dream of doing anything like it.

"See those guys?" he muttered. James smirked and decided not to retort.

"Quiet today."

"Yeah, it's been quiet. I've been here all day and there've only been about four pairs here - hands." James sat down on a stool and held out his hands so Joe could massage them. "So did you feed off of the sweet fruit that I fed to you last night? Take advantage of your condition in say - the bedroom?"

"The only fruit I fed off of was yesterday morning when Mae talked about what a horrible man you are."

"She didn't try anything - ?"

"If she did, I don't remember."

"That's sweet. Do you remember singing show tunes as we left the restaurant?" Joe smirked and began taping.

"I remember you being an idiot as we left the restaurant, and that's all I ever think of you, so, no. I don't remember."

"You're very funny, Jim, hilarious. That was the pinnacle of wit, that was."

"Bite your tongue, Joey."

"You know, I've actually started doing it on my own."

"Good man."

"Yeah, yeah." he started James's left hand.

"I went to the docks today."

"Still? Jimmy, you don't have to go so often, we've been makin' some dough lately."

"Yeah, well, first minute you have it, next minute, it's gone."

"I know what you mean. And you - working at the docks all morning, and now sitting here with your bad ankle, still wanting to train. Look at that, he's got some guts after all."

"Go to hell."

Joe laughed. "Nah, I'm just messin' around. Hey, Jim, who, just a few months ago, beat Max Baer down to his ass during 15 straight rounds of brutal fightin' snagging the title of "World Heavyweight Champion"?"

"That was me."

"Great - let's go - get those suckers on!" James took off his shirt, pulled on his gloves, and climbed up into the ring. Joe handed him up his headgear.

"Who am I fightin', Joe?"

"Some chump called Buddy Spattard. He was on the waiting list - been on there since 10 AM this morning, so I figured I'd sign you up. I've never heard of him in my life. Whoever he is, he's been sittin' around here for what, five hours? And whoever he is, I want you to kick his ass."

"It's only practice, Joey, don't get all worked up," James said, throwing punches at an invisible opponent and dodging their own invisible punches. He glanced up for a minute.

"Come on, where is this guy? Has he looked at the list?"

"Hey, Joe, look behind you." Joe turned. "D'you think that's him?"

"Jesus Christ, I hope not." A teenager was heading toward Jim and Joe, carrying his own headgear and gloves. The headgear was borrowed, but his gloves were his own. He didn't look jumpy or excited - he looked fifteen, and he looked tough. He was wearing a blue jersey and a pair of trunks. The muscles on his arms and legs were features to desire, but they were excelling in size for his age. He was Hispanic with a shock of messy black hair on his head and a glint of animosity in his green eyes. Joe was taken aback when he stopped dead in front of him. "Who the _hell _are you?" was his opening.

"But Spattard. And who the hell are you?" the kid smiled a little, but kept the tough-guy look.

"Well, see, I'm here to strip for the fighters today. And you?"

"I'm here to spar with James J. Braddock. I could do without seeing any skin of yours but your hands and your face while I'm fighting, but whatever gets the other guys pumped. Personally, I could do without seeing even your face..."

"That's cute. Real cute, kid. Jimmy, you can mop the floor with this guy, and I truly suggest you do it too. What's your problem, what do you want? You want an autograph 'r somethin'? What are you doin' here?"

"I already told you, Skippy."

"He's bluffing."

"He doesn't look like he's bluffing, Joe."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't look like his hands are taped, either."

"Tape 'em," said Jim.

"I ain't tapin' 'em."

"Buddy, my friend, Joe's gunna tape your hands."

"I ain't tapin' 'em!"

"Go easy on him, Joey, he's a kid."

"Might as well learn from the best," Joe said, always willing to compliment James's game whenever he could.

"I'm not so weak. I work out on the docks every morning, and have been since the beginning of the Depression," Buddy said, pointedly to James. "I seen you there, Mr. Braddock."

"I didn't know they let kids your age work over there," James said.

"They don't."

"_That's _comforting."

"Bite your tongue, Joe."

"I've supported my family from the beginning of the Depression, and I'm going to support them after it's over, when I become a boxer." Joe bit his tongue hard.

"You got a trainer?" asked James.

"No, that's partly what I came here for," said Buddy, fumbling with the lace his left glove.

"You came here to mooch off of someone else's trainer?" said Joe incredulously.

"No, of course not. But, I was hoping Mr. Braddock could train me."

"Mr. Braddock doesn't train people. Especially kids, for that matter," Joe said.

"He does now," said Buddy. James raised his eyebrows. "Please, Mr. Braddock." James looked at Joe, who just stood there giving James a look like: "if-you-say-yes-to-this-guy-you'll-make-yourself-look-like-an-asshole," but ignored it.

"I'll t'ink about it. Let's fight first, eh?"

"Yeah, let's fight! Come on, Jim." Joe taped Buddy's hands hastily, and the boy put in his mouth guard, and shoved his hands into his gloves. Joe pushed the gear onto his head and helped him up into the ring.

"Alright, let's be clean, but not too clean," Joe said, pacing around the edge of the ring. Buddy and Jim stood in their corners with their hands up. "Alright, touch gloves." The two moved forward, touched, and began the spar. Jim angled a jab at Buddy's stomach, but he countered it with his left arm and got James on the side of his head.

"Not bad, not bad at all. Now, really show me what you got." James stuck one on Bud's side, and then on his head. Buddy backed away, and James smiled.

"Ah, this guy's a schmuck. And he wants to be trained my Jimmy Braddock." For a minute, James thought Buddy might stick Joe one, but James smiled at the kid and shook his head.

"Ignore him. He don't know what he's talkin' about." The corner of Buddy's mouth twitched, and he aimed for James's face, but he put up his arm and blocked the punch with his glove.

"Good workout, eh, Jim?"

"Bite your tongue, J - " Buddy got James hard in the face during his distraction, and guilt fell over his face. James stretched his face for a while and nodded, then put his arms back up. Buddy looked suddenly smaller than he had when he'd gotten into the ring. He was shrinking into himself, gulping hard and hoping James didn't think him an idiot punk. He wanted so badly to train with a pro. It was enough to meet James Braddock in person, but training with him would be either a dream or a nightmare. Buddy didn't know what kind of trainer James would be: the kind that works his student until he's dog tired, or the kind that's easy on their student and takes breaks between every hour of training. He was hoping, though, that if he hit him too hard, he'd think that he'd only come to the gym to think himself better than a pro and prove he could be a better fighter than even Jimmy Braddock could be.

James, on the other hand, wanted the kid to hit him as hard as he possibly could to see if he had any skills, or if he'd last long enough in the ring for even a seven round fight. It would take intense training to shape a fifteen year old up to the boy's highest standards for his age, and most at that age back out. It would be tough, and it would depend on how determined the fighter was. It took a lot to continue.

For some reason, or maybe, just because he was being himself, Joe was cheering on James. James thought this was quite amusing, because this fight, he wasn't cheering on himself, he was cheering on Buddy.

They didn't pause for breaks (Buddy didn't have a trainer yet anyway to offer encouraging, gory, words about how to fight, and James wanted to see how the kid would do without any breaks. He'd nod his head when Buddy was backing off, telling him to get back in and try to hit him, and he would every time.

"Come on - don't be afraid to get back in there - your guy's not just gonna back off if you do. If you're open, that means he has a better chance of beatin' ya up. Come on. Just give it to me - " he countered a jab. "Oh, that was nice - great job." he hit the kid right back in the jaw. Buddy clamped down on the back of his tongue with his molars hard and tried to keep his eyes from filling up. The headgear kept out most of the pain, but Jim still had a strong arm and wasn't afraid to hit anybody. As far as he was concerned, it was Buddy's fault his bones weren't as hard as his.

Buddy missed an uppercut when James dodged and caught it with his left hand. He threw his arm back down and went in for a punch, but the kid was ready and sent one flying at his right eye. James dodged it just in time and smiled. Buddy's face turned as red as the headgear he was wearing.

"It's okay, we'll have to work on aim." Buddy didn't know what James meant by that. He put his arms down.

"So, you'll take me?" James only kept the game going, taking this as an advantage, and slugged him hard in the side.

"Get your hands back up!" he shouted. Buddy did so, and got Jim twice on his head. But James got them even, when he pushed him up against the ropes and began to pound on him almost mercilessly. Buddy clenched his teeth and reversed it. He jabbed James in the face, then on his shoulder, on his head. James laughed, and suddenly, with gloved hands, Buddy pulled off his headgear. His face was sweaty and red against the brown tint of his skin, and his hair was sticking out every which way.

"What? What's wrong with my fighting?" he demanded. James pulled off his own headgear, and his right glove, then ran a hand through his hair.

"You're fifteen years old. If you came here thinking that if you fight me, my skill will somehow be transferred to you through my gloves, then you got the wrong idea. Boxing's not that easy, kid. We all make it look so easy to get up there and fight, and that's because we've got utmost determination and we're stronger than the other guys who ran out of the ring when they saw their opponent. It helps to be doing it for a lot of years, too." Buddy stared at James for a while, patient as he took off his other glove and disposed of the gear on the floor. He cracked his knuckles. "If you really want to be a boxer, you gotta show it. Your show ain't that good - "

"THEN, WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO?" the sound echoed around the gym, and mingled with Joe's quiet "Jesus Christ..." The pair at ring 6 looked up to see what all the commotion was. James only gave a little smile.

"You're a smart kid, I can tell. Smart enough to understand that what you have to do is a lot more than you already are." Buddy's jaw dropped.

"Are you _kidding _me? I came here, I put on a show." James smiled again.

"I said the exact same thing once. After a fight I was sorry for going to. You should feel the same way about this one."

"Shit,I don't got time for this. I gotta work. See ya 'round." Buddy climbed out of the ring and headed out of the gym. James took out his mouth guard and ran his tongue over his teeth inside his mouth, then looked up.

"I got a fight on Thursday."

Buddy stopped, and turned his head. "I've never missed any of your fights. I'll be there."

OoOoO

"So, Jesus - what do you think of that kid?" Joe said as the two were walking out of the gym. James had a bag with his gear over his shoulders and had changed into a black button down shirt and trousers. He rolled up his sleeves.

"He's got potential," he said. "He's the spittin' image of me when I was fifteen years old. Sure, there was no Depression when we were growin' up, but everyone in my family had to work their asses off. We didn't have a lot 'a money." Joe sighed and stopped outside his car.

"You want a ride?"

"It's alright, I'll walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." James scratched his head.

"Alright. We gotta actually get you trained up for Thursday, so, I'll see you, what, Tuesday and Wednesday? That alright?"

"Yeah, it's fine. So, we're down for Tuesday and Wednesday. I'll see you then."

"Alright, Jim." Joe opened his car door. "Say 'hi' to Mae and the kids for me, will ya?"

"'Course."

"And, try and get some sleep, Jimmy. I know you gotta go down to the docks tomorrow, that's fine, but go to bed early." James nodded. "See ya later, kiddo." James waved as Joe started his car and took off down the road, then he began the long walk home.

A/N: I really had fun writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it!

I'm so glad I'm getting more readers for this. special thank yous go out to _Mercury Gray_, _NaughtyTautology_, _Nitesh_, and _XHeartofaDragonX_ for being my first reviewers. Thanks, guys!

For every chapter, I will post review replies at the end, as, if you know my writing, I always do. Also, as I always do, I am requesting at least five reviews to post a new chapter. If I get four and I do not get any reviews for a long time, I won't deprive those who want an update, and I will post the next chapter. It's a fair way to get my rewards and for you to get yours! Thanks for reading, everybody. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

_**Review, people!**_

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REVIEW REPLIES FOR CHAPTER 1:

**Mercury Gray - **Congrats! You were my first reviewer! Hah. You need badly to go see the movie, so maybe you can improve on your boxing jokes. lol! Hope you liked the update.

**NaughtyTautology - **Goodness knows if I remember to alert you of updates - unless I'm on your Author Alert. If I'm not, I suggest you put me there, because I like when you read my stuff. You ought to, anyway, you got me hooked on your Sitcom. (facepalms) I need to finish chapter 11... Thanks for reading/reviewing and all the comments and stuff. But now, I must ask, WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY SEMICOLONS? I love semicolons. If you reply to this in a review, don't forget to say how fantastic I am too. ;- (I stole your smiley)

**Nitesh - **Oh, I'm so glad you came by to read! I posted a _Beautiful Mind_ poem the other day too. It's short, and I haven't gotten any reviews for it yet! Thanks so much for the compliments and everything. I love Joe and Jim's relationship too. They're great - it's like in my _Finding Neverland _story - Charles Frohman and J.M. Barrie's relationship. (I don't know if you've seen the movie or not) They're so funny together. One's sarcastic, the other one's the one to laugh at their sarcasm and put up with them when they're bitchy; and yet they're still best friends. The crazy characters are my favorite to write. :- Hope you continue to read! I'd appreciate it if you put me on Author Alert too. Not just for me to get reviews, but I know that if you find out the author's posted 2 new chapters since you last visited, it can be a pain the arse.

**XHeartofaDragonX - **Joe is amazing! He's a Charles Frohman - but he swears more! Yes, you must keep reading this because you love me and boxing is fun and cool and whatnot and you must obsess. lol I'm kidding. But you do have to keep reading, and you have to love Jimmy. Playwright still remains best, as it is longer and...better liked? I'll get more traffic for this, you'll see.


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